He swung round sharply.
“She's not ill?” he asked.
“No, not ill; but exertion easily tires her. And she's afraid you 'll be angry with her, and miserable because she thinks she did an ill-bred thing in intruding on your privacy. She 's deeply ashamed; she feels acutely. She's not like other girls. We've got to realize it. She wants me to apologize to you—”
“Stella apologize to me! Stella!” he shouted in amazement and indignation. “We 'll soon see about that!”
He strode toward the door leading into Stella's room. Lady Blount checked him.
“Don't, John. I would n't see her now.”
“Do you think I 'd leave her a minute to suffer fear and misery and shame?”
“You exaggerate, dear.”
“Those were your words. No, Julia. I must set this right.”
Stellamaris suffering, afraid of him, miserable, and ashamed! As well say Stella beaten, Stella thumb-screwed, Stella thrown to wolves! It was intolerable. He forgot his resolutions.